


By Any Other Name

by kittypox



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Drama, FU verse, Kuron steals Keith after the battle, M/M, Omegaverse, S6 alternate ending, dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 05:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16211963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittypox/pseuds/kittypox
Summary: The battle has ended; he has failed. At least...Keith has not won in the way that he thought he would have. Shiro is free of Haggar's control, but the man is still acting odd, dragging them to unknown galaxies, vehement in his declaration that they are no longer a part of Voltron. When Shiro begins to speak of beginning a new life, away from war and all they knew, and even mentions the taboo subject of pups, a small flame of panic begins burning within Keith.





	By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> The formal story for FU verse! (visit my tumblr for more details on that haha) The wonderful and super talented Jin made art for the first chapter, so visit her blog at http://jin-06.tumblr.com/ her sheith art (and art in general) is to die for.

He did not recognize the constellations. That was a good sign; foreign stars meant a solar system out of Haggar's reach. Or so he hoped. As far as he knew, his programming included all of the witch's knowledge; she had had no reason to believe him willing to, much more capable of, defying her orders. Without certainty though, he would need to maintain vigilance. They were safe for now, far from the witch's far reaching gaze. 

Shiro--

_No, I am not Shiro._ He had to get used to that idea. He was not the Black Paladin, pillar of hope and pride of the legendary defender, Voltron. He was not Takashi Shirogane of earth. He was something different, something darker, something _less_. 

Kuron. He remembered the name. Less of a name, now that he knew better, and more of a label. Kuron--the clone, the project. The replacement. A scowl broke out on his lips. He might not have been Takashi Shirogane of earth, but he refused to be Kuron, the puppet of Haggar. 

He could not be Takashi Shirogane, but he could be close. Kuro. The name popped into his mind suddenly, as if fated. Perhaps he was not Shiro, but he had all of Shiro's knowledge, including memory of the man's mother tongue. Kuro. He tested the name, rolling it over his tongue, saying it first in his mind and then aloud. Kuro. The black to Shiro's light. It was a fitting comparison, he decided. Kuro he would be. 

Elated as he was to have his own name, to be free of the burden of someone else's greatness for the first time in his life, he would need to keep it to himself for a time. Easing Keith into their new life would take time. The young paladin would do anything for Shiro though, even surrender the hopes of the entire universe. But only for Shiro. So, for a bit longer, he would need to be Shiro.

=====

Pain was the first thing Keith noticed when consciousness drew down upon him. Every part of his body hurt, testament to the violent battle he and Shiro had engaged in. There was a particularly strong point of burning on his face and when he lifted a hand to investigate the wound, he recoiled with a hiss. His fingertips had barely grazed his flesh and it had erupted in fiery agony. 

_That's right_ , he thought, closing his eyes and trying to gather the energy to sit up. He and Shiro had not merely fought, they had devastated one another. More accurately, Shiro had brutalized him. The tangy, copper taste of blood still dripped down the back of his throat, testament to the number of teeth he had lost from the brutal uppercut Shiro had delivered. The plasma burn across his cheek seemed minimal in comparison. 

He tongued the gap where one of his molars had once sat. He had never fought Shiro so savagely, not like that, not even on their most vicious of sparring days. Countless evenings had been spent, on earth and board the ship, working one another the brink of exhaustion. Never had Shiro exhibited the same strength and viciousness he had that day. Had the man been hiding such ferocity the entire time or had he merely tapped into reserves of strength unknown until Haggar's probing magic guided him? Keith supposed that it did not matter. What was done, was done. The battle had been fought and Shiro had won, battering him like a rabid animal. 

It was not Shiro's fault, Keith thought, rolling onto his side. Somehow, Haggar had gotten into the man's head and messed with him. Whatever thoughts were running through Shiro's head, whatever drove him to turn against his friends and to raise a hand to someone who loved him more than the universe itself--it was not Shiro. He needed to remember that fact and hold onto it. Bloody, beaten, and bruised as he was, Shiro was still depending on him. 

Gathering his bearings was difficult. Even had his vision not been wavering and black spots dancing before his eyes, it would have been a chore. Wherever he was, it was dark, almost pitch black with the only light a flickering emergency lamp far above his head. It was not the Black Lion, he could tell from a cursory glance about. Thank God for small favors, but then again, he could not be one hundred percent certain that the lion hadn't fallen into Haggar's clutches. Suddenly, pitching himself into a wormhole with no backup was not seeming like such a wise idea. If he were responsible for the loss of the Black Lion to enemy hands, he would never forgive himself.

_One thing at a time. Shiro first._

Sitting up was a slow and tedious process, first pushing onto his elbows, then arching his bruised back, then finally pushing himself from the floor. His arms shook with the effort, as if he were struggling beneath the weight of gravity. Not a good sign, he decided. It had been years since a battle had left him so winded, to say nothing of his injuries. The dark part of him, capable still of finding morbid amusement in the situation, was tempted to chastise Shiro for hiding such wild strength from him. 

"Shiro?" 

He cringed at the way his voice cracked. Screaming the man's name incessantly had taken a toll on his vocal cords. A stupid idea, now that he had the luxury of turning it over in his mind. Declaring his undying devotion in a scream had as much effect as if he had whispered it--which was to say, none at all. Only when they had been face to face, eye to eye, chest to chest, had Shiro actually looked at him, listened to him. Shiro had _heard_. 

_I love you._

His heart fluttered. He had actually said it; he had confessed. It needed to be said, Keith reasoned. He had been holding the truth inside for so long, even before that moment, it had been near bursting from his lips. Forcing himself apart from Shiro had been torture, but he had realized the depths of his feelings. Working alongside his fellow Blades was all well and good, but it had become abundantly clear that he would not be able to maintain his distance from Shiro for long. Not willingly at least. Two years riding the back of a time traveling space beast with only his memories of the man had been torturous. Perhaps that was why now he clung so stubbornly to Shiro. He had only just returned; he was not willing to give up on his mate now.

Channeling that same persistent stubbornness he was famous for, he climbed to his wobbly feet and began his search. Somewhere, there had to be a door and beyond that door, Shiro would be. He groped through the dim light, searching the wall for a doorway, a switch, anything that might take him to freedom. 

"Come on..."

After five minutes of fruitless searching, his hand landed on a heavy ridge. Feeling his way along what he thought was a door frame, he began beating at the paneling. Exhausted as he was, his strength was not nearly enough to even cause a dent. Beating down a door would take some effort. Where Shiro had patience though, he had tenacity. He could stomach being the stubborn, hot headed paladin if it meant he found his way back to Shiro. 

Alas, stubbornness did little when he barely had the strength to stand, much less tear his way through a metal wall. After completing a valiant but fruitless campaign against the obstacle, he settled on the floor, gathering breath and focus. Reality settled in slowly, his desperation to find Shiro bleeding away in the wake of the heavy realization that he was trapped. Until he could discover a way to get the door open, Shiro would need to wait. 

=====

Two days of loneliness had tempered his spirit. Upon later contemplation, Keith suspected that the isolation was a well used tactic to wear him down until he was complacent. Or easier to deal with at the least. When the door at last slid open, he barely had the energy to sit up; certainly not enough to dash for the door and make an attempt at freedom. The light from the hallway temporary blinded him and he flinched back.

A hulking silhouette waded into the room and Keith's hand flew to his belt, in search of a bayard that he no longer possessed. 

"Calm down." A firm voice instructed.

A gasp escaped Keith's lips. "Shiro!" He made a feeble attempt to get his feet beneath him, but he stumbled, crashing to his knees with a grunt. 

"Easy."

Large hands settled on his shoulders, easing him into a sitting position before raising his chin. Hungry, nervous, and wary as he was, Keith could not help the smile that broke out on his lips upon seeing Shiro. The man looked a bit gaunt himself, hair disheveled, a layer of several days of scruff on his chin. He reached out and stroked his fingers through the rough growth. It felt like home. 

A small, practice voice in the back of his head noted and wondered where Shiro's paladin armor and suit had gone. The man had stripped down to grimy white undershirt and a pair of gray pants. They must have been stored somewhere in this foreign ship, Keith thought, fingers finding one of the many holes in his own paladin suit. Perhaps he would ask for a set of clothes for himself. Later.

"Shiro...where are we?"

The man grimaced slightly. "I'm not certain. Somewhere far from Haggar. She won't find us out here."

It took a moment for Keith to process what Shiro had said, addle-minded as he was from hunger and exhaustion. Far away. Where Haggar could not find them. That sounded lovely...if it did not imply one other thing.

"Shiro...if Haggar doesn't know where we are--where are the rest of the paladins? _They_ know where we are, right?"

The man stared at him. Eventually, Shiro gave the vaguest of head shakes.

No. No one knew where they were. 

"I-I don't understand, Shiro. Why are we out here? We have to get back to the others. They need our help! They were--Lotor might have killed them! We need to--"

"Quiet."

Keith closed his mouth, keening weakly. Shiro stared at him, eyes gone cold and hard. It was a look that Keith had grown accustomed to seeing on the man's face in recent months, often finding it directed at him. Used to it or not, he still hated being pinned by that disappointed, chastising gaze. 

"You don't need to worry about the others. They have their Black Lion, they can find a new pilot. Voltron is their problem now."

"Their problem?!"

"I said to be quiet!"

Keith flinched, snapping his mouth shut, ever willing to please Shiro. He did not protest when the man took his face in hands, jerking harshly until their gazes met. Shiro would broke no protest.

"We are not part of Voltron any longer." Shiro said firmly. "Princess Allura wanted to carry on with this war; let her have it. I'm not being anyone's pawn any longer--and neither are you."

Something was still wrong with Shiro. Keith could not believe what he was hearing. Of course, he understood the man's frustrations and anger, being pulled first one way and then another, tugged and tortured, maimed and terrorized all in the name of someone else's war. But it was not like Shiro to simply turn from a problem and run. His Shiro was not like that. For as long as he had known Shiro, the man always ran head first into his problems, not from them. 

Carefully, he lifted a hand and pressed it against Shiro's own. The man continued to stare at him, daring him to challenge. 

"Shiro, you know we have to go back." The man broke into a snarl, pulling his hand away, but Keith maintained his hold. "The others need us. I understand why you don't want to fight anymore and I swear that you won't have to. I promise that I will fight twice as hard, so you can be free. I--"

"Enough."

"I'll protect you, Shiro."

"Keith--"

"I know you're scared, Shiro, but I--"

"Be quiet!"

Violet light flashed, the only warning he had before stern metal fingers settled over his throat and squeezed in warning. Keith wheezed, hands flying to Shiro's forearm, desperate to pry himself free. The man's grip was tight, warning. A tense moment passed between them; Shiro's grip did not waver, but the full force of the man's crushing grip never came. Keith knew what the man wanted; he eased his shaking hands to the ground, lowering his gaze, a show of obedience. His display was met with pleasure; Shiro's grip loosened and the hand slid away. 

"That's better." 

Keith did not answer. His eyes remained downcast, tired mind tumbling over itself as he valiantly tried to piece together what was happening. When Shiro's finger crooked beneath his chin and lifted his head, he did not fight it. A peaceful smile had spread on the man's face once more.

"We'll be safe here, Keith. I will protect you." Shiro murmured, a cruel mockery of his own attempts to sooth the man just a moment before.

Keith remained silent. What could he say? Arguing had proven to be ineffective, if not dangerous. He would not give up his campaign to return to the other paladins, but it was very much not the time to carry on the argument. Once they had food and were properly rested, he was certain sense would return and Shiro would feel more like himself. Then he could talk reason to the man. Until then though, he would need to tread carefully and play nice.

He leaned his cheek into Shiro's hand. "...What are we going to do out here?"

"Make a life." Shiro said simply, using his free hand to stroke through the greasy locks of Keith's hair. At Keith's prolonged stare, he continued, mouth quirking into a grin. "We'll make a home, Keith. We're mates, aren't we? We can have the life we always wanted now. No war, no obligations--just us."

It was a lovely dream...but one from their pasts. Years ago, when they were young and dumb and ignorant of the universe around them, it would have been pure bliss, to run away from all responsibilities that tethered them and to simply exist together, mated, loved, the only thing that one another needed. Such fanciful dreams were no longer viable. A pang of sadness struck Keith's heart at the memories of dreams gone by. 

"We'll have pups."

Keith's head shot up at the sudden declaration. "We--what?"

"Pups." Shiro repeated, smile never faltering. "I want a litter--two litters. Maybe more. It's time. You've been ripe for breeding for years and I'm tired of forcing myself to pretend I don't want it or that I won't regret not having pups with you."

Pups. Pups. Litters. Multiple litters. He had not misheard; Shiro wanted pups. Shiro wanted litters of pups. In the middle of a war, with their lives constantly being threatened, with Haggar and Lotor and the whole of the galra empire searching for them, Shiro wanted litters of pups. 

A crazed little laugh escape him. "Shiro, we can't have pups."

"Why not?" the man snapped.

"The war! Even if we aren't part of Voltron, they would never be safe!"

But Shiro continued to smile. Whatever logic Keith used, it did not seem to sway the alpha. Hands returned to his face, caressing his cheeks in what Keith supposed was meant to be a soothing gesture. His insides were roiling, but he continued to put on his face of docility, accepting the man's touch without complaint. 

"Oh, Keith...You're going to be a perfect mother to our pups. You dote on them so much already, worrying about them like a mother hen."

He made to protest, but a finger pressed to his lips, hushing him. 

"This is what I've decided, Keith. We're going to start our family. I'll take care of finding us a home; you just focus on recovering. You need to be strong to carry our cubs. Do you understand?"

What could he say, other than yes? Argue and get the man's hand around his neck again? Sweetly try to persuade Shiro from the idea and have the man ignore him or put him aside? Keith shut his eyes, taking a deep breath and forcing calm. Something was direly wrong with Shiro still, but he would not be able to help his mate if he was secluded in a storage hold. 

With an accepting nod, he murmured, "I understand."

He accepted the alpha's tight embrace, finding little warmth in it. He accepted the kiss pressed to his forehead, worrying over how he would prevent himself from getting with child. He accepted the caress over his wounded cheek, grimacing at the blush of pain that sang as Shiro's fingertips grazed the inflamed flesh. Shiro pressed close, kissing, caressing, whispering the sweetest of nothings into his ear even as they hurtled towards a future Keith did not know how they could sustain. The love, he could accept, but he could see no real way for them to live out the fantasy life Shiro had envisioned for them. 

His eyes flicked to Shiro's face, tracing the lines of his smile and the searing the memory of tit into his mind. He wanted to always remember the man's joy, because he knew it would not last.


End file.
